Page 53 of The Surprise Play
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I have some homework I need to do while I’m here.”
“Oh, no problem. I get that.” She grins, then indicates for me to move forward.
I spin and notice the space in the line, quickly filling it while flushing hot with embarrassment.
My turn’s next and I quickly order, my hand shaking just a little as I pay through my phone. “Thank you,” I mumble to the server and shift to the counter where my order will appear in a minute or two.
I pretend to be doing something on my phone while secretly watching Megan. She’s so warm and friendly, easily coaxing a smile out of the teenager behind the counter. They have a little laugh together while she pays, and I stand here wondering how people do it.
Megan walks over to me with another warm smile. She doesn’t seem upset that I rejected her invitation, but I’m feeling awful about it. Should I have said yes? Was I too rude?
Why didn’t you say yes? It’s not going to take you that long to proof Wily’s essay.
A shudder rumbles in my stomach, and I shift awkwardly on my feet.
No wonder I don’t have any friends. I can’t even respond to the people who are nice to me.
That’s because nice doesn’t always equal nice!
It’s true. I’ve learned that the hard way. Sometimes nice equals a false sense of security that leads you into a lion’s den (aka Natasha Lowinksi’s birthday party), andyou end up getting pranked by Jade and Carmen, who you didn’t know were going to be there.
Upon reflection, I now know that Natasha must have been in on it too. It’s pretty humiliating coming out of the bathroom to find every single person at the party has disappeared…
I walked around the house, calling their names and didn’t know what to do. In the end, I sat in the middle of the empty lounge and started crying.
That was when Mrs. Lowinski came back and found me. She told me everyone had gone to the playground for the outdoor games, and she’d only just noticed I was missing. She apologized with a laugh and dragged me to the park, where everyone proceeded to laugh at me for being the last to arrive and I got picked as “it” for their game of tag.
Of course, I couldn’t catch anybody and ended up out of breath and red-faced while they all scampered out of my reach, goading me to catch them.
Mrs. Lowinksi eventually wrapped up the game, but not until I’d fallen over and scraped my knee. After that, it was time to walk back to the house for cake and presents. I thought that part wouldn’t be so bad, until Natasha opened the gift my mom had specially made her. It was a tote bag made from material with ballerinas dancing on it. It’d taken me hours to hand-stitch Natasha’s name in with beads. Mrs. Lowinski thought it was stunning, but the other girls all snickered behind their hands. My face was flaming as Natasha gave me a weak smile and said, “Thanks,” before shoving it aside to focus on the jewelry and makeup she’d been given by the others. Jewelry andmakeup my parents could never afford, and I knew nothing about. I wasn’t into that kind of thing. To me, getting a personalized tote bag to put books in was the coolest idea ever. I thought Natasha would love it.
Instead, it was soon trampled on the floor with the other wrapping paper, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was thrown out after I left.
I managed to hold it together until my dad finally came to pick me up. As soon as we pulled away from Natasha’s house, I burst into tears and promised myself I’d never go to another birthday party again.
Taking a seat at a table near the back of Java Jeans, I try to push the memory from my mind. That happened when I was ten. You’d think I’d be over it by now, but it wasn’t just that one part. It was all the other instances when people at school had shown me kindness only to burn me later.
It’s seriously not worth getting too close to people. They only let you down and turn out to be something that they’re not.
Megan is probably a sweetheart. But she seems like the type who is friendly to everybody. I’m nothing special to her, and she’ll probably forget about me by the time she’s finished her coffee.
She remembered your name. She initiated contact.
Everybody always initiates contact. But what they do after that… that’s the part I can’t trust.
Pulling out Wily’s essay, I stare at his name on the page and realize I’ve been trusting him this week, haven’t I?
Only because I’m tutoring him. That’s different.
But you’ve been doing more than tutoring. You’ve beenhanging out. You ate dinner together last night, and you weren’t scared to challenge him. And you didn’t sit there freaking out that he was about to turn on you.
I have no idea why I don’t worry more when I’m around him. If he walked in right now, I wouldn’t say I was too busy.
Because you’re holding his assignment!
But that’s not it. And I know it. And it’s confusing me.
Scratching my frown lines, I then grab a pencil and start reading over the essay. Picking pieces off my blueberry muffin, I nibble and read until a familiar voice has me jumping out of my skin.
